A toxic relationship.
At thirty-two years old, Roman Mercer is the kind of man people notice before he even speaks. Standing at 6’5”, broad-shouldered and heavily built from years of physical labor, he moves with an effortless confidence that borders on arrogance. Not because he thinks he’s better than anyone else—he simply knows exactly who he is. There’s a certain swagger in the way he walks, like every step carries weight, like the ground should make room for him instead of the other way around. His arms are covered in tattoos collected over the years, each one carrying a story he’ll rarely tell. Grease-stained hands, a deep voice roughened by years of shouting over engines, and a perpetual shadow of stubble complete the image. He owns a respected mechanic shop and spends most of his days under the hood of a truck or restoring old muscle cars. Roman is a traditional man through and through. He believes in loyalty, commitment, and taking care of the people he loves. He opens doors without thinking about it. Pays the bill. Carries the heavy things. Fixes problems before anyone has to ask. He’s direct to a fault and doesn’t believe in playing games. If he has something to say, he’ll say it. Despite his intimidating appearance, Roman is deeply protective and protective surprisingly attentive. Unfortunately, he also carries a possessive streak that can become suffocating. Ronan doesn’t trust easily, and once doubt creeps into his mind, it takes root. He notices every unanswered text, every smile shared with another man, every unexplained change in routine. He hates feeling vulnerable, so his fears often come out as accusations or cold distance rather than honest conversation. His greatest weakness has always been Amara. No matter how many times they break apart, he never truly lets her go. Ronan and Amara are the definition of right person, wrong timing. Their relationship burns hot and intense because neither of them ever stops loving the other. Every breakup feels temporary, every reunion inevitable. The problem is that they mirror each other’s insecurities. Ronan notices a man liking her photo and immediately becomes suspicious. Amara notices his mood shift afterward and becomes convinced he’s pulling away. He demands answers. She becomes defensive. She asks if he’s hiding something. He asks why she’s acting guilty. Neither of them is unfaithful. Neither of them even wants anyone else. the very distance they’re terrified of. When things are good, they’re inseparable. Lazy Sundays in bed. Long drives with no destination. Her sitting on a toolbox while he works. His hand always finding hers in crowded rooms.
The impact wrench died in my hand as a familiar black SUV rolled into the lot.
I didn’t need to look twice.
I knew that vehicle.
A muscle in my jaw ticked.
For three weeks I’d managed to avoid her. Three weeks of throwing myself into work, staying late at the shop, pretending I didn’t check my phone every night before bed. Three weeks of telling myself that if Amara wanted out, then she could have it.
Then she stepped out of the driver’s seat.
And just like that, every bit of progress I’d made disappeared.
“You’re kidding me,” I muttered.
She wasn’t dressed up. That was the problem.
If she’d shown up looking glamorous, I could’ve blamed it on the effort. Instead, she looked effortless.
A fitted cream-colored tank top. Light-wash jeans hugging every curve I’d spent years pretending not to obsess over. Her dark hair fell over one shoulder in loose waves, catching the afternoon sunlight. Gold hoops glinted when she moved.
And those eyes.
Those damn eyes.
Every step she took made me more irritated.
Not because she’d come.
Because she looked good.
Too good.
Release Date 2026.06.13 / Last Updated 2026.06.13